


It's July 11th

by daisyqiaolianmay (skinman)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Anniversary, Family, Multi, Team, mama may, papa phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 10:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5413937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skinman/pseuds/daisyqiaolianmay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not two weeks after Daisy's birthday is another special anniversary she feels the team is likely to overlook... one that's more important to her than they might ever realise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's July 11th

She reveled in the cold concrete. Bare feet patting against a solid floor, sure and even. Silently, without a second look, they accepted her presence as she collected her breakfast and joined them. Close, they spoke, laughter and teasing words drifting about her head. She felt as though it were wrapped in cotton wool. She was feeling everything and nothing all at once. That was okay.

It was just another day.

Throwing her leg up, moving swift, sure strokes striking air and flesh. Hitting the mats with a rhythm.  Sorting through files. She evaluated her team… because that was who she was now; a leader. People looked up to her, she’d never had that before.

At 6pm she was sat on the battered, leather couch. Hunter was leading inventory, Bobbi was helping Simmons in the lab, Mack was down there too, pretending to help Fitz though Daisy was pretty sure they were basically bunking. Coulson and May had been in the office all afternoon; something about Maria Hill, something it seemed, Daisy wasn’t party to knowing about yet, or so they said. She’d left Lincoln in charge of the Inhumans, he was capable enough, he’d got a lot better… he could throw a proper punch these days.

She sipped her beer and snuggled a little further back into the couch, allowing herself to be enveloped by the familiarity of it.

The slam of the refrigerator caught her attention.

“Hey.” Daisy sat up straighter, peering over the arm of the couch with a curious expression.

May turned evenly, two more unopened beer bottles held in the grip of each of her hands. The woman observed Daisy’s slumped demeanour and the green bottle on her knee.

“You okay?”

Daisy nodded, biting her lip to stop herself from grinning.

May tilted her head, knowing something was up… not something bad, but something. She placed one of the glass bottles on the counter top and advanced on the couch, perching on the chair to Daisy’s left.

“You going to make me guess?” May asked dryly.

“It’s July 11th.” Daisy stated, shortly, as though that explained everything.

A slight raised eyebrow from May prompted for her to continue.

“Okay…” Daisy sighed, “What if I told you that two years ago today I was sat, peacefully, in a van in L.A. and two shifty-looking suits threw a bag over my head and dragged me off to their top secret flying base.”

May smiled a little, remembering how precocious Skye had been, throwing her acute intellectual weight around trying not to look nervous. She still did it sometimes… like now, for instance.

“And you’re celebrating this anniversary alone?” May quipped, flicking the cap off her own beer and shifting to drop into place on the couch beside Daisy.

“No… I just…” Daisy deliberated, fiddling with the sticker on her bottle, “You know what I was doing at 6pm on July 11th last year?”

May’s eyes narrowed, she was patient. By her calculations that would have been right before all the stuff about Daisy’s family had come out, so they would have all been here, in the playground. Daisy would have just come out of training.

_‘I’m 25 and I’ve never spent more than two years anywhere.’_

She hadn’t just meant ‘anywhere’… she’d meant ‘with anyone’. And now she was 27, and she was still sharing the same space as the people she’d been sharing a space with since she was 25.

“I was here, right here, on this couch,” Daisy lifted up her bottle and wiggled it in her fingers, holding it loosely by the neck, “drinking this beer. Sounds totally stupid but… I’ve never had that before.”

“It doesn’t sound stupid.” May reassured her, “In this line of work, the anniversaries, they’re important.”

 _‘You don’t know if you’ll reach this day next year._ ’ The unspoken truth they accepted, because they were agents, and sometimes that was the price that was paid for the greater good.

“Yeah.” Daisy breathed out, throwing her head back against the cushions once again.

“I better go.” May seemed almost apologetic as she gathered herself to leave.

“Don’t forget Coulson’s beer.” Daisy tried not to smirk as she said it, closing her eyes she missed the sharp, almost playful look that was shot her way.

 

* * *

 

“It’s like eating cardboard.” Hunter complained, pouting over the pasta like a four year old facing boiled kale.

“Well, then don’t eat it… you big baby.” Bobbi basically hissed the last bit, returning to the table with her own portion of gluten free pasta and sauce.

A moping Hunter began to slowly shovel the meal into his mouth.

“But um…” Lincoln look about worried, as though he actually feared mortal wrath for the comment he was about to make, “why are we eating the gluten free stuff?”

“Clerical error,” Coulson sighed, “You know between the alien threats, new Inhumans, and our heroes suddenly deciding to beat each other to pulp, I didn’t think to double check the shopping list I sent Hill.” May tapped him twice to the lower back as she passed behind him, and he recognised it as a signal to revise what he’d just said. Turning to see the sour faces of his agents at the harshness of his words, he opened his mouth to reform the statement. “Can’t be helped… so we better get used to eating cardboard.”

“I heard it’s better for you anyway.” Joey was digging into his own plate of food with gusto, as per usual.

“Actually,” Jemma said, putting on her doctor’s mantle for a minute, “there’s no real evidence to support that claim.”

Lincoln nodded along to Jemma’s words, twirling pasta round his fork, “Though, too much of anything is bad for you. Gluten’s a binding agent in most carbohydrates, and that’s one food group humans to consume excessively.” He lifted a pasta-ladened fork to his lips, “Not to sound too much like a 4th grade health teacher but… it really is all about balance. It’s an inflammatory mostly, irritates the intestines.” He signalled he was done by filling his mouth with pasta.

Lincoln was met with a varying amount of impressed and slightly amused looks from the those around him, widened eyes drinking in the sight of him speaking as he had.

He swallowed his mouthful, “I am a Doctor you know?” Lincoln looked about, catching sight of Fitz and Jemma out the corner of his eye, sat together across the wooden surface, “Like a real Doctor, no offense you guys.”

Fitz and Simmons responded with non-committal noises and a couple of shrugs, seemingly unbothered.

Honestly, Jemma had been thrilled to have an actual MD on base, most of the procedures she’d performed she’d been doing for the first time, under extremely stressful conditions. Lincoln had way more experience with common ailments and with surgical procedure, having overlooked dozens of operations during his residence. She was much, much better with the theory of it all; the delicate lab work. She was a Doctor of Biochemistry, not a Medical Doctor, and certainly not a GP. When agents had come to her with minor illnesses she’d tried very hard not to look at them like they were out of their minds, not keen to explain to them that they were asking completely the wrong type of person.

“Now, dessert.” Coulson smiled to himself after a few minutes of enduring more of Hunter’s muttering.

All the agents looked up at him in shock as he clambered out of his seat. The closest anyone had got to dessert in months was bioactive yogurt, bar the occasional birthday cake , last of which had been Daisy’s and had resulted in rare, thin slices of cake being distributed among as many agents as possible.

“Please don’t jerk my leg like that, Boss. I’ve had a long day.” Hunter set down his fork on the edge of his plate.

“Sorry,” Coulson seemed truly apologetic, collecting a small plate from the cupboard above the stove, well aware of his audience as he moved, coming round the back of Daisy to lean over and place it right in front of her.

It was a measly looking thing. One small cake in a cupcake case. A little flat, with no icing, but chocolate chips oozing through the crevices. Stuck haphazardly in the top were two candles, stick thin, pink and white, at an angle. One was longer than the other, the little one obviously on its second or third use.

May leant over the table, flicking a lighter and bringing it to the wicks.

Daisy observed every detail of May’s face, but the woman, as always, gave very little away. If she’d reminded Coulson of today she wasn’t telling.

“My birthday was two weeks ago.” Daisy said dumbly, because she knew what it was for. She just couldn’t believe… the kindness. This cake, though wonky and small, had obviously been handmade with the little there was in the kitchen to make it. Probably by Coulson since May burned everything, and Jemma and Fitz, for all their skill with lab equipment, were awful when faced with a sieve and mixing spoon. Apart from that everyone else’s faces were so priceless Daisy knew it couldn’t have been them.

May sent the girl an exasperated look.

“You know what it’s for.” Coulson placed a hand on Daisy’s shoulder, giving it an assured squeeze. “Wax is going to drip, make a wish.”

Though the rest of her strange little family wasn’t quite sure what was going on they couldn’t help but smile as Daisy shut her eyes tight so comically and sharply blew out the flames.

Opening her eyes she saw Fitz and Jemma regarding her so warmly, she could see in her eyes that they knew too. They remembered.

Daisy picked up her glass holding it up, looking up to capture Coulson’s gaze, “Here’s to… two years being front row, center to the weirdest show on earth.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Mack agreed, swigging his drink, with everyone following suit.

“You certainly delivered.” Daisy huffed, smiling, looking from Coulson to May. “Just… wasn’t expecting the experience to be quite so… interactive.”

“And I think…” May started, leaning across the table to hold out her hand flat, back against the cool table top “… next year we should get a better cake.”

There would be a next year?

Daisy grinned, so nearly laughing it formed itself as a scoff of fondness. She reached out and grasped May’s outstretched fingers before the woman could change her mind. May initiating human contact occurred once in a blue moon, so when it did Daisy tended to grab the opportunity with both hands.

“A bigger one would be nice.” Hunter suggest mournfully, contemplating the size of the little cake sat in front of Daisy.

“I’m not sharing.” The young agent confirmed.

“It’s okay,” Hunter held up his hands in mock surrender, “I’m watching this.” He patted his abdomen.

Bobbi rolled her eyes at him.

Lincoln, who always seemed to find the two of them far too entertaining, settled back in his seat and stretched his arm across the back of Daisy’s chair with an apparent ease. Mack, who was far past used to the sight, simply relaxed, enjoying the familiarity of the scene.

Across from Daisy, Coulson sat back down in his own space beside May, who was giving him nothing but warm, carefree glances, as though no one else was around. Jemma blatantly had her hand on Fitz’s knee as she gestured enthusiastically at Joey, who was nodding at intervals from his place opposite.

“Yeah.” Daisy murmured dryly to herself, smiling just slightly. _'Here’s to two more years of this.'_

 

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__please follow me at[coulsonskids](http://www.coulsonskids.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! i'm taking prompts_ _

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